


Five times Reid takes care of Garcia (and one time she takes care of him).

by flustraaa



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Criminal Minds RPF
Genre: 5+1 Things, Caring Penelope Garcia, Caring Spencer Reid, Comforting Penelope Garcia, Drunk Penelope Garcia, Drunk Spencer Reid, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Good friend Penelope Garcia, Good friend Spencer Reid, Hurt/Comfort, Penelope Garcia angst, Penelope Garcia fluff, Sick Penelope Garcia, Sleepy Penelope Garcia, Sleepy Spencer Reid, Spencer Reid Angst, Spencer Reid Fluff, comforting spencer reid, platonic intimacy, this is so fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:33:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24448909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flustraaa/pseuds/flustraaa
Summary: it happens so frequently, now that it’s no longer a thought in her mind but rather a feeling that floods her whole body. spencer reid is the best friend she could ever ask for, and she knows that through and through.
Relationships: Penelope Garcia & Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia & The BAU Team, Penelope Garcia/Spencer Reid (if you squint squint squint), Spencer Reid & The BAU Team
Comments: 6
Kudos: 357





	Five times Reid takes care of Garcia (and one time she takes care of him).

**Author's Note:**

> hehe i love Reid and Garcia.

** 1.)  **

The first time it happens, Reid is sitting criss cross applesauce on a small, cleared out patch of Garcia’s desk. He’s thumbing through a historical recount from the war of 1812, his finished case reports to the side, along with his coffee and a bag with a few of Garcia’s favourite croissants. 

She tries to sneak around him; clearly intending to snatch one them of while he’s lost in the pages of his book. 

However, Garcia missed one very important detail. She had been wearing bells on her Christmas sweater. Without glancing up, he simply swipes the bag of the table holding it in the air above her head as she looks at him with wide, pouting eyes. 

“Boy Wonder, I thought we had something _special_ here,” Her voice is over dramatic and woeful, scarlet painted nails clutching her heart. 

Reid glances up, taking one glance at her before letting out a soft laugh. 

“They’re all for you, Garcia,” He states, turning to reveal her name on the side in his chicken scratch, “I just wanted to see how long you’d make it before trying to take the bag.” 

“Oh, my pride and pearls,” she cries, fanning herself as if it weren’t the dead of winter and freezing with the AC blasting in the she-cave. “Spencer, you do flatter me.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He grins, keep doing your techy stuff, I’ll get you a plate and cut it up for easy access— if you say that’s what she said, I’ll tell Hotch I bought croissants for the team.” 

“You wouldn’t.” 

“Do you want to test me? There’s raspberry lemon scones in there too,” he states, trying to look intimidating but failing miserably. 

He’s just so button-nosed, she thinks distantly. 

“Not really.”

“Good choice,” he retorts, turning on his black converse.

And true to his words, he comes back with a warm green tea and a cut up croissant.

He even lets Garcia press her finger to her lips, and then to his forehead— and that’s what she’d call a major win. 

** 2.)  **

The second time it happens, is right after Garcia has just been shot. She wakes up from what is more likely than not a drug induced nap to find Boy Wonder sitting in the cracked leather chair next to her.

His legs are thrown haphazardly over an arm rest, his head cushioned on the top of the back test, and back pressed firmly against the over the other arm rest. There’s a book collapsed against his chest, a hand laid over it— but that’s not what catches her attention.

What catches her attention is that his freehand is holding hers gently, as if worried even in sleep that he’ll break her.

She hates feeling weak. But the way boy wonder looks curled up in that chair makes her feel warm— they were taking shifts.

She vows then and there that if anything like this ever happens to Spencer, she will be sitting in that chair whenever he wakes up.She gives his hand a soft squeeze, which in turn manages to wake him up.

He takes in a slow breath, bringing his free hand to his face before his eyes manage to slowly focus on her.

“Oh, hey,” he says softly, without removing his hand from her grip, “how’re you feeling? I was worried about you.”

“I’m a-okay, my Junior G-Man.”

He sends her a Spencer Reid certified grin, before pulling his hand back.

“I didn’t want you to wake up alone. I’m going to go find you something to drink and a snack, okay?” She nods, smiling— thankful for her friends. He continues, “Do you want anything specific?”

“What’s best for gunshot wound?” His smile fades a bit, but he pastes it back on as if nothing happened.

“Lean red-meats, fish, vitamin C,” he replies softly, rising to his feet, “How does fruit sound?”

“Good. It sounds good.”

He nods, watching her for a moment before sighing and stepping closer.

“How does a hug sound?”

“A lot better than fruit,” she mumbles, already reaching for him.

He’s stiff for a moment, and she can hear him taking deep breaths before he finally allows himself to wrap his arms around her.

She cries for a while like that, Reid wrapped around her like a sweater, a skinny, lithe, bony sweater.

She pulls away and he hands her a tissue and the hair tie on his wrist, “I’m going to go find you that fruit, Morgan said he’ll be here any second to hang out with you, alright?”

“Will you just stay with me until—“

“Of course, Pen.”

She stops, looking at him, he just sends her a soft smile, clearly not realising he did something incredibly uncharacteristic.

Pen, she thinks, that’s something she could get used to. 

** 3.)  **

“Hey, Boy Wonder?” Penelope slurs, back pressed against the carpet and staring at the ceiling.

He’s silent for a long moment, before he murmurs back, “Yeah, Garcia?”

“I’m wasted,” she blurts on an exhale, turning to face Reid who’s already facing her.

There’s something about how close they are that makes her start giggling, which in turn makes Spencer smile, before adding, “This is the first time I’ve ever gotten drunk. The brain doesn’t fully develope until age twenty five so I figured—“

She cuts him off, returning her eyes to the ceiling, “No, no, Beautiful Bo Peep the spin-off. No Boy wonder facts, only sheep.”

Spencer’s brows furrow, “We’re going to sleep?”

“No, Boy Wonder,” she replies softly, the same way you would explain the answer to a child who keeps asking why.

“But you said sheep. You count sheep before you go to sleep—“ Penelope slips a hand over Spencer’s mouth, hushing him.

“Shh, shh, Boy Genius.”

They sit like that for a long few moments, even after Penelope has removed her hand and Spencer has adverted his eyes to the ceiling as well.

“Am I drunk?” He breaks through the silence. “The room is doing loops.”

“Yes, you’re drunk. After two glasses of wine.”

He nods thoughtfully, before asking, “Are you drunk?”

“Wasted,” she repeated, raising her upper body to down the rest of the glass of wine.

“Oh,” he blurts, recalling their earlier conversation. “Right.”

It’s hours later when Spencer wakes up alone on the floor, a dent on the opposite end of the pillow they’d been laying on and his head pounding that he realises why he woke up.

He rises to his feet, ignoring the headache (it was nowhere near as bad as the migraines he’d been having). He shuffles through his cabinets finding a can of ginger ale and some saltine crackers JJ and Morgan had brought over when he had the flu over break.

He cracks it open, slipping a purple straw in before knocking on the bathroom door, “Garcia?”

There’s a soft sound of acknowledgement, and Reid cracks open the door finding his friend leaning heavily over the porcelain bowl.

He sits beside her, holding out the ginger ale.

“Oh, Boy Wonder, my sweet, sweet Boy Wonder. I love you.” She reaches out to cup his cheek, but quickly realises why that’s a bad idea and instead drops her hands to the straw.

He grins, watching her sip from the straw and nibble on the salty snacks, “I’ll run down and get you some coffee, yeah? You’ll be okay on your own for a while?”

She nods, grateful for the support.

** 4.)  **

The next time it happens, they’re on a flight back from a case. The plane is dead silent except for Rossi and Morgan’s snoring.

Garcia is shivering in her seat, incredibly uncomfortable sitting up and trying to get some rest.

She finds herself absently staring at Reid’s blanket covered form; mainly for two reasons. 

Firstly, he is directly across from her and his windows are the only ones open still. The second being that he’s covered in two blankets.

“Penelope?” A hoarse voice asks, “Are you alright?”

She blinks away the haze, meeting Reid’s half opened eyes, “Yeah, just tired Boy Wonder, go back to sleep.”

She sees understanding light in his eyes, and before she can say a word he’s shuffling from under the blankets and holding out a hand to help her up.

“What—“

“You told me you couldn’t sleep unless you’re laying down— when we were drunk,” he clarifies, seeing her confusion, “Because you have a childhood fear of snoring when you sit up.”

“Reid.”

“You’re shivering too,” he says, and can she just say damn profilers for being able to read her so well.

Though a voice in her head tells her he can only reader her so well because he knows her so through and through.

“Reid I can’t—“

“Yeah, you _can_ ,” he takes one of the three blankets, “There’s melatonin in my jacket pocket if you can’t fall asleep. And besides, I’m not even fully awake yet.”

She’s silent, playing with her rings as she tries to figure out how to change his mind.

“What about you?” She murmurs guiltily, and she’s almost certain he’s looking at her with a glare only meant to tell her to stop worrying herself.

But when she glances up, Reid’s sitting with his legs thrown over one end of the chair, back pressed against the other, and head leaning against the wall. His mouth is open, and his hair is a mess, and the sight makes her smile softly.

“Thanks, Reid,” She finds herself whispering, even though he’s well gone into his dreams.

When the plane touches down, he’s still out like a light, and everyone else is just stirring awake.

Garcia grabs a water bottle, stirring him with a soft hand against his shoulder while he slowly returns to land of the living.

He takes the water with a soft word of thanks, and she nods, wondering how she got so lucky as to have a friend that cares about her so much.

** 5.)  **

“Thank you for doing this.”

Spencer just glances up from the magazine in his lap with a small smile, not flinching when Penelope grabs his hand and she can’t help but think about how far he’s come.

“Penelope?” She rises, smoothing her skirt as the Nurse leads her back into the examination room.

Spencer turns to face the wall, without being asked, while she slips into the dressing gown.

He holds her hand while they take blood, and stands by her side while they check her over. When the nurse disappears, Spencer hoists himself to sit next to her on the paper strip covering the table.

“Spencer,” Penelope says after a long moment, “I’m terrified.”

“It’ll be okay, Garcia. No matter what.”

“How do you know? It was a one night stand, how do I know it’ll be okay?” She mumbles, eyes filling with tears and chin wobbling as she moves to rest her head on his shoulder. 

“You have the team. You have me,” He replies softly, hesitating sightly before rubbing comforting circles against her back, “And if you do have a little one, they’ll have Jack, Michael, and Henry too.”

When the Doctor reappears, he returns to the chair parked next to the table while he talks to Penelope, careful to tune out her answers so as to not make her uncomfortable.

And after they get ice cream and watch doctor Who— he’s there when she gets the call.

She’s _not_ pregnant.

He’s there for the rise and relief, followed by the sadness of the realisation. 

He’s there until she falls asleep.

He tucks her in, slipping of the lights and locking the door behind himself. 

**+1.)**

When Garcia is turning of the lights of the bat-cave, she finds Spencer sitting over his desk.

She brushes behind him, expecting him to jump or at least turn to look at her but he doesn’t.

Her eyebrows furrow, and looks over the case under his hand. It doesn’t long for her to realise it’s Maeve’s case.

It’s mostly filled out, but it’s when she realises he hasn’t written anything in the five minutes she’s been hovering over him that her eyes move to his hand. The pen is still tucked between his fingers, but there’s an uncharacteristically loose quality to his grip.

He’s asleep, she realises at once. She leans stands in front of the desk, and that’s all it takes to confirm her thoughts. His cheeks are pressed against his palm, eyes closed and breaths deep. 

Penelope’s heart breaks when she sees the red rims of his eyes and the texture of his lashes— they type that comes from painful tears.

“My Junior G-Man,” She says gently, slipping the case file into his top desk drawer, and pulling the pen from his hand. “It’s time to open those pretty eyes of yours.”

Spencer’s nose scrunches, and she crouches beside him, shaking his knee enough to bring him back to the land of the living. 

“Hey, there you are,” she coos, lifting his cardigan and satchel from the chair. “C’mon, I’m driving you home.”

“You don’t have to,” he says sleepily, slipping his arms through the cardigan; but it’s that response alone that tells her she has to do this if not for him, for her own peace of mind.

But instead she says, “I know Boy Wonder, come on.”

He follows her to the car, his nature more sluggish than usual as he follows her. He sinks into the front seat, relaxing as the warmth of the heater envelopes him, and eventually managing to fall back asleep during the drive.

She coerces him to join her once again in the land of those who don’t drool on the car seat, and when he’s back he wipes his mouth sending her a half asleep but sheepish smile nonetheless.

_There he is,_ she thinks, _my Boy Wonder is coming back to me._

He follows her up the steps, tripping over his own feet a few times but eventually getting to the top of the steps. She opens the door, when he struggles with his blurred vision and for a moment, she wonders if he’s drunk.

She brushes of the thought, hanging his satchel and cardigan up; and untying his shoes and watching as he leans against the wall for balance.

Finally, she finds herselfleading him to the bathroom. She sits him on the closed toilet seat, but not without thinking about how he’s the first guy she has ever met who leaves the seat down, let alone the cover.

She’s washes his face with some of her favourite travel sized formula, rinsing and giving him his tooth brush a tooth paste while she disappears to find a pair of joggers and a shirt. She makes her way to the bed, waiting for the shower to stop running.

Spencer appears, illuminated by the bathroom light. Wet curls frame his face and she rises to her feet, leading him to his bed, helping him settle under the covers.

“How are you doing, Boy Genius?” She lets her hand hover over his shoulder for a long moment, waiting for his nod prior to resting her hand on him. Slowly, she migrates to running soothing circles over his spine.

He pauses for a long moment, “I’ve been better, and I’ve been worse.”

“Scale of 1-10?” She inquires.

He sighs, “I can breathe again.”

She nods softly, “You had me worried there, Boy Wonder. It took me a while to wake you up.”

“M’sorry,” He mumbles, eyes fluttering closed, “Haven’t been sleeping, must’ve been out.”

She nods, lightly tucking the soaked strands of hair behind his ears, and away from his face.

“Pen?” he whispers, words hitching on the syllables, voice near slurring— a faint lisp that only appears when he’s exhausted poking through, “Thank you.”

She just smiles, watching as his breaths even, turning into soft snuffles that further confirm his exhaustion— and make her laugh under her breath.

“Good night, Spencer,” she says softly, giving his shoulder a final squeeze. She makes sure his nightlight is plugged in, the bathroom light on and door cracked as sleep. Finally, she sets a glance of water on his nightstand, slipping his watch and phone beside.

And after she locks the door behind her, she finds herself thinking, ‘ _how lucky am I, to a have a friend like him_.’


End file.
